


How Do You Want Me, How Do You Want Me?

by babykid528



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Claiming, Daddy Issues, Deeper Feelings Than Either Are Prepared to Discuss, Dom/sub Undertones, Feelings, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/babykid528
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Jim Kirk backs up into the apartment, cocky grin twisting his lips, a saucy shake in his hips, and Chris Pike is sure this boy will be the very death of him.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Do You Want Me, How Do You Want Me?

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this back in January, but I couldn't bring myself to edit it until recently, so I'm only posting it now. This is my first Trek FPF fic and I _adore_ these two together. I hope you all enjoy it.  <3
> 
> [Title taken from Meg Myer's "[Desire](https://youtu.be/bR5u9jb0PJE)"]

Jim Kirk backs up into the apartment, cocky grin twisting his lips, a saucy shake in his hips, and Chris Pike is sure this boy will be the very death of him.

“What’s the matter, Chris?” Jim asks, licking his lips like the cat that finally cornered the canary. “You having second thoughts about whether you can handle little old me?”

It shouldn’t turn him on so much, the way Jim goads him. Jim has been goading him since the very first moment they met, when he’d saved the kid’s ass and practically scraped him up off the barroom floor. It certainly didn’t start out as a turn on, the goading, even with the way Jim had smoldered incredulously, covered in all that blood.

But somewhere between Iowa and Chris’ apartment tonight, that smart little head tilt and smarter mouth decided to fuck up everything almost-right in Chris’ simple, comfortable life.

Chris must take too long to respond to his taunting because Jim’s smile melts into a thin line, lips pressed together in concern.

“Chris?” He asks.

There’s a note of uncertainty that bleeds into Jim’s voice and it’s all Chris needs to hear to get his brain back on track again.

He lets out a huff before slamming his door shut behind him and stalking in after Jim. He crowds him up against the nearest wall, just outside his old-fashioned kitchenette, and grips on tight to the front of Jim’s cracked leather jacket.

“The question is, Cadet, are you really ready for me?” He growls against Jim’s cheek.

Jim whines, a strangled little sound, deep in his throat, and jerks his hips forward in search of friction.

“You getting hard just from my voice, Cadet?” He asks.

Before Jim can answer with some smart-mouthed reply, Chris reaches between them and squeezes Jim’s erection through his pants. Rough enough to make Jim thrust his hips forward into the touch while reverently gasping out an inelegant ‘fuck.’

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Chris asks.

It’s his turn to be arrogant, so he gives Jim another squeeze before pressing in closer to him, trapping Jim between his chest and the wall.

“You’ve been begging for me to fuck you for months,” Chris tells him. “You think I haven’t noticed, but don’t mistake my disinterest for obliviousness.”

Jim’s breathing is labored, getting more so with every rough squeeze Chris gives his trapped cock, but he still manages to huff out a question in response.

“Disinterest?”

Chris hums and bites at Jim’s jaw.

“Disinterest,” He says again.

“You seem pretty damn interested now,” Jim says.

He doesn’t ask what made Chris change his mind and Chris gives him credit for that show of restraint. As a reward, he nuzzles in impossibly closer and sucks on Jim’s neck until Jim cants his head to the side, moaning.

“What can I say,” Chris says, trailing his mouth up until his voice is a low rumble against the shell of Jim’s ear, “I finally saw something I wanted.”

It’s bullshit. The most bullshit thing that Chris has ever said to him, and he’s sure Jim knows it. Chris wanted him from day one, from that first bloody moment in the bar in Iowa, cockiness be damned.

Now, he just happens to want the arrogance on top of the rest of the Jim Kirk package.

Jim is actually coming into his own. _Finally_. It took months of careful observation, reluctant personal growth, and a lot of prodding from not only Chris, but from Leonard McCoy as well, and it’s all paying off. Jim’s a lot more complex than even Chris imagined he could be. And that, the levels on levels that make Jim who he is, and the revelation of just how many facades the kid hides behind daily, are ultimately what made Chris finally decide to give in to this urge he feels like he’s always had. This need to claim Kirk as his.

“What do you want?” Jim gasps, grinding himself into Chris’ palm with a full body wiggle.

It’s stupidly erotic. More erotic than the way the kid was licking his lips, ready to fall down to his knees for him before they even left the bar.

“Why don’t we start with you up against this wall and see where I take us from there?” Chris says in answer.

Jim manages, just barely, to gasp out something in response. Maybe a ‘yes,’ or a ‘Christ,’ or another ‘fuck.’ Chris doesn’t quite catch it. He’s too busy shoving a knee between Jim’s legs to hold him up while he slides his hand off Jim’s cock so he can unclasp and unzip Jim’s faded, butter-soft jeans.

He hikes Jim’s shirt up with his free hand, so he can see what he’s doing a little easier, and he gasps at the twitch of Jim’s abdominal muscles under the soft brush of his skin.

“You are wasted on a Starfleet Uniform, you know that? That cadet red synthetic abomination doesn’t do your body any justice,” Chris growls against Jim’s carotid before biting into his skin.

Jim lets out a mix between a yelp and a whine and he bangs his head back with a loud thud into the wall behind him.

“Is there something you want, Cadet?” Chris asks.

He affects an air of boredom but follows up his question, immediately, with the very interested scrape of his teeth across Jim’s stubble covered chin.

“Fuck, just, fuck me!” Jim cries out in response.

He sinks his fingers into Chris’ shirt, stretching the material to the point of ruin, and leaves knuckle shaped bruises along Chris’ chest and back.

“I’m not feeling very motivated,” Chris tells him, laving his tongue across the teeth marks from his latest bite.

“Please,” Jim gasps the word out with such force, face contorted in a pained, endless need. Then his blue eyes fly open and lock onto Chris’, raw and vulnerable and far more emotionally invested in what they’re doing than Chris had any idea he would be, and they make Chris stop immediately.

Jim has a reputation. One that includes the phrase ‘sleeps with anything and everything that can consent.’ It’s not a reputation without judgment attached to it, but Pike has known for a long time not to listen to the labels people give Jim, especially not the ones he tries to hide behind.

He knows Jim is more than an easy lay. He knows Jim is far more complex than any whispered gossip that reverberates throughout the Starfleet Academy halls.

He just didn’t know until right now that deep at the center of all of Jim’s playboy armor, amid all of the most sacred and protected Jim Kirk vulnerabilities, are actual feelings for one Christopher Pike.

Chris reels backward at the weight of that revelation.

Thankfully, Jim holds on tight to him so he can’t fall too far away and think the better of what they’re doing here.

Chris cares about this kid, much more than he ever intended to let on about, and knowing this whole encounter means more to Jim too is a lot to take in. Chris knows, in the most logical part of his brain, that he should stop this and talk to Jim before they go any further. Waiting to talk later is only going to make things worse. More complicated.

If things with Jim were anything other than complicated, though, Chris doesn’t really know what he would do.

So he pushes forward again, claiming Jim’s mouth with his own, and kissing him with more feeling than is wise.

It only takes a moment for Jim to give up on the pretense that this is a play for dominance between them before he’s submitting, sagging into Chris with an uncharacteristic need. Except it’s not uncharacteristic at all. And Chris has been waiting for this moment, or something like it, for ten long months now. Ten long months where he refused to give in to Jim’s advances because he was waiting for the moment when Jim would be ready to give in to him completely.

Chris reaches for Jim’s pants again, drawing out a broken moan, but he doesn’t go back to the open fly. Instead, he reaches for Jim’s pockets, patting each before finding the one that’s full. He reaches into it at an awkward angle and pulls out a packet of lube and a condom. _Bingo_.

He leans back from Jim again, just far enough so he can wave the prizes in front of Jim’s face, and level a sardonic expression at him.

Jim just grins, actually blushing, and Chris can only hold up the mask for so long before his own grin slips through.

“You expecting to get lucky tonight when you followed me to that bar, kid?” He asks.

Jim’s bravado grows in the wake of Chris’ grin, but it’s more tempered now. Less mask. More joy.

“I’ve been hoping to get lucky with you since that first bar we met in,” Jim says, softly, in reply. It’s one of the biggest truths he’s ever gifted Chris.

Chris doesn’t have the words to respond to that, so he leans in again, catches Jim’s lips in another rough, possessive kiss, and feels a little electric thrill pass down his spine, twitching his already hard dick. Jim just melts even further into Chris’ touch.

“I’m going to fuck you into this wall,” Chris says, hit by sudden inspiration.

Jim grips onto him tighter.

“I’m going to fuck you like I’ve wanted to since day one,” Chris says, effectively calling out his own lie from earlier. ‘Disinterest.’ Fucking _ha_!

Jim doesn’t point it out though. He doesn’t revel in catching Chris’ feeble lies. He just spreads his legs a little wider and arches his back against the wall.

Chris reaches out the hand that isn’t holding the condom and lube and cups Jim’s face, holding him in place as he stares into his shining blue eyes.

“I’m going to spread you out on my bed and take proper care of you later,” he promises. “Fuck you slow and thorough. But I’m claiming you here, first. You hear me? You’re mine if we do this.”

It’s the beginning of the conversation they should be having, but not the whole thing, not by any means.

Chris watches as Jim’s pupils dilate at the promise, as his lips part on a helpless gasp.

“I won’t share you, Jim,” Chris tells him, giving him a little shake. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” Jim sighs, nodding.

“You’ll sleep only with me,” Chris tells him with another, softer shake.

“Yours,” Jim agrees. “I’m only yours.”

Chris makes quick work of divesting Jim of his pants after that. He leaves Jim’s shirt and jacket on him, and gets right to the point, filling Jim’s ass with two slick fingers. They’ve had more than enough verbal foreplay.

Jim lets out a groan, loud enough to be a shout, and Chris fucks his fingers slowly in and out of Jim’s hole.

“I stretched myself before I left to find you tonight,” Jim manages to admit, voice hoarse.

Chris hides his face in Jim’s neck at that confession, closing his eyes as he takes a fortifying breath, overwhelmed by the mental image of Jim with his own fingers in his ass, thinking about him.

“So much initiative,” Chris groans into Jim’s skin before scraping his teeth across it again, drawing a fierce shiver out of him.

He adds a third finger to Jim’s ass before licking up along Jim’s neck on a path to claim his lips again.

“Chris,” Jim whines his name against Chris’ mouth. “ _Please_.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, kiddo,” Chris tells him.

That form of address could be a mood killer. It _should_ be a mood killer, actually. It verges dangerously close to all of the daddy issues Jim’s never denies having, but never admits to either.

All the term does is manage to elicit a whimper from Jim, though, and Chris strokes purposefully over his prostate in apology, earning an almost reverent sounding shout.

“Please fuck me!” Jim begs, clarifying his request.

Chris nods and kisses him, whispering ‘okay’ against his lips once and then twice.

He gets his own slacks open one-handed while he continues to finger fuck Jim. When Jim starts shaking around his fingers on every outward stroke, Chris’ self control is shot to hell. He barely manages to push his pants halfway down his thighs before giving up on them and ripping open the condom packet with his teeth.

He gets himself covered without taking his fingers out of Jim.

Jim’s fingers are leaving bruises along his arms and shoulder blades, as he scrambles to hold on while Chris fucks him open.

“You ready for this?” Chris asks, pulling his fingers from Jim’s hole finally, slicking his cock up with the body-warmed lube and earning a bereaved sounding moan from Jim at the loss.

“I’ve been ready,” Jim whines, darting his tongue out to lick his bottom lip.

Chris hikes up one of Jim’s legs, then the other, urging Jim to wrap them around his waist while he supports Jim’s weight between himself and the wall. Then, without any further preamble, Chris lines himself up with Jim’s slick entrance. He lets gravity do most of the work, letting Jim slip down around him until he’s stretched full of Chris’ cock.

Jim gasps at the sensations, holding Chris tight with arms and legs. Chris’ back is going to be riddled with fingertip and heel shaped bruises when they’re finished here. He’s more than okay with that.

Chris pins Jim against the wall with his hands and torso and swivels his hips, moving his cock deep inside of Jim.

Jim lets out a desperate mewling sound at the movement and any last vestiges of restraint Chris may have been holding onto dissolve.

He sets up a rhythm of quick, rough thrusts, bouncing Jim into the wall as he screws him.

Jim gasps and clings and yelps out one-syllable words like ‘good,’ and ‘fuck,’ and ‘Chris.’ Over and over until he sounds like he’s losing his voice altogether.

Chris can feel his balls tightening with each upward thrust and he knows he’s not going to be able to keep this up for very long.

“Jerk off,” He commands and Jim complies instantly, wrapping a tight fist around his own leaking cock.

“Fuck, Chris,” Jim whines.

“I will never get enough of the sound of you like this,” Chris tells him. “I will never get enough of you like this. Fuck, Jim. I mean it.”

Jim chokes out a strangled yell as he comes between them, pumping his fist in time with Chris’ increasingly erratic thrusts, until he’s spent and oversensitive.

“Chris, please,” Jim begs then, clinging closer to Chris as Chris fucks up harder into him. “Come inside of me.”

Jim’s voice, his words, and the feel of his ass clenching around him are too much. Chris thrusts up once more, holds himself deep inside of Jim, and comes.

Unlike Jim, Chris’ climax is silent. He just presses Jim harder into the wall, grips him tight as he rides it out.

He gasps when he’s finished, releasing the breath he’d been holding, and then he’s kissing Jim.

It’s claiming but still somehow gentle. A kiss that’s far more sentimental than either of them is really prepared for.

Jim huffs out a laugh as they part from it, a stupidly affectionate look on his grinning, flushed face.

“Wow,” he says, using the pads of his fingers to trace the contours of Chris’ brow.

Chris feels flustered by the attention, so he captures Jim’s hand in his own and nips at the tips of his fingers.

He can see the wonder in Jim’s eyes at the undeniable truth that Chris cares about him. Far more than either of them initially thought.

Chris tries to brush it off without brushing it off and he shrugs, shifting his softening cock, still buried inside Jim.

“I’m yours,” Jim gasps, voice full of a multitude of unnamed feelings.

Chris ducks his head a little and kisses Jim’s sternum. He tries to tell himself that the gesture doesn’t mean anything, even though he lingers a little at the feel of Jim’s rapidly beating heart.

“You’re mine,” Chris whispers into Jim’s sweat-slick skin.

There are things to discuss still. Those things haven’t gone away in the wake of the super hot sex they just shared. But they can wait to be discussed a little bit longer.

Chris shifts Jim in his arms, pulls his half-hard dick free from Jim’s slick hole, sure to hold onto the edges of the condom.

He lowers Jim’s feet to the floor carefully then, makes sure his legs are steady, and then he goes to dispose of the latex and get a damp cloth to clean them both up.

When he returns, Jim is still leaning heavily against the wall, grinning away.

Chris cleans him gently and, with strong, sure arms, leads him back to the bedroom where they strip down quickly and collapse into the bed together.

Jim curls up around Chris as soon as they’re both beneath the covers.

“We have a lot to discuss,” Chris tells him, because he can’t leave well enough alone.

“Yeah,” Jim says on a sigh. It’s not a troubled exhalation, or even a resigned one. It’s just an agreement.

Jim snuggles closer, somehow needier after sex then he was before.

“I’ll make you breakfast and we can talk about everything in the morning,” Jim promises.

Chris wraps his arm around Jim and holds him tight.

“That sounds like a date,” he tells him.

He can feel Jim’s mouth spread into a smile where it’s pressed to his skin and he laughs a little at his own sorry attempt at flirting after the fact.

Chris is a starship Captain. He has been in space, in galaxies far, far away. And he has held the futures and lives of thousands, metaphorically, in his hands.

And still none have seemed quite so important, quite so terrifying, as this one life he’s holding, literally, in his arms right now.

He’s not sure he’s actually prepared for what he just got himself – both of them – into, but as Jim nuzzles closer while he drifts off to sleep, Chris is sure he’s not going to be backing out of it. Not now or any time soon.

He’s at peace with that knowledge.


End file.
